Aug 13 - Ottawa, ON - from Blue Skies to the Black Sheep

Post-Blue Skies is a very hard time for people who go there. After experiencing a weekend of euphoria - friends, great music, sharing - the coming down can be hard. Children and adults alike find themselves welling-up or crying, because the realities of more than two-hundred days of the year creep back into their minds, or simply because good times for the time-being are over. I am as susceptible to this as the next person, if not more so. I have always taken the end of Blue Skies hard, and this year was no exception because I'm in the middle of a difficult tour. I spent the days between Blue Skies and the show in Kemptville contemplating quitting this tour. What I arrived at was a decision to abandon the bike, to make the rest of it more comfortable, perhaps just to make it do-able. After talking with my mother, though, I had that guilty feeling of not finishing what I started, of breaking a promise. So, I decided I would cycle to the house concert on Friday, and up to the secret show and Black Sheep gigs on Saturday and Sunday.

Let me write about Kemptville before those gigs, though. The Branch Restaurant used to be Amanda's Slip, which was a fantastic place to eat very fine food by a very fine chef, AJ. Things have changed, but only subtly. The decor is still intimate and warm, the food is still amazing, the desserts are still mouth-watering, the music is still going. There is a different set of friendly, hospitable faces. The main difference is that The Branch is committed to using local and organic products as much as possible. This, in many cases, equals delicious. I had some broiled tofu for dinner and granita for dessert while drinking Heritage Dark Ale - and all were extremely satisfying. But what about the show? Well, Derek played the best set I've heard him play since back in Waubaushene. He had the crowd in the palm of his hand the whole time, or so it seemed. I felt a little daunted to get up there and follow him, as I imagined the crowd was into his style and wanted more. None the less, I got up and did my thing, and did it better than I'd done in quite a while, and though some people left, I don't think it was because of my music so much as because of the hour. It was a great show, and I can't say good enough things about our hosts. From the chef to the waitresses to the Maitre D, these people have made something cozy, classy and delicious.

After a crazy day running around trying to get ready to tour by bicycle again, I set off for Rachel Hauraney's house. On the way, I stopped into MEC to get some new gloves to see if they would help pad my hand better. They seemed to be doing the trick at the start, but by the next day, things had changed [more on this later]. The concert at Rachel's ended up as more of an informal get-together. A total of five people - apart from Derek, myself, Rachel and her ?boyfriend? - showed up. These included my friend Jerry and his new girlfriend, two friends of Rachel, and Melwood Cutlery. Instead of playing official sets, we just passed the guitar around and played the odd song in between chatting and getting to know each other. In a way it was disappointing, but in another it was nice. Even Jerry joined in on the playing, and at that point I began to think - this is what music is for - sharing. When the place had cleared and things were winding down, I went to play piano. In the middle of it, Derek came and said "Let's end this." I was caught off guard, so it took me a little bit to get his meaning, but he meant "let's end the tour". Everything came to head. Neither Derek or I particularly want to be around each other anymore. There seems to be very little that is positive that we can get from each other. We have been much quiter in public than we have been behind the scenes. Backstage is a mess right now. We can't comfortably be in a room together. I am disappointed in both of us for not being able to find a way to work together, but I also realize that we shouldn't be obligated to get along. We were never friends, and right now we seem to be the embodiment of each other's pet-peeves.

So, Derek's idea is to play the shows until Quebec City and then ride straight to Halifax from there, so he can say he crossed Canada by bicycle. My idea is to play the rest of the shows, so I can say I finished the music part of the tour. So it looks like we'll be splitting into a music/cycle tour - me on the music, him on the cycling. It is most likely for the best this way. We'll both have something to be proud of, and hopefully not too long from after its over we'll be able to look back on it all and laugh some. Wish us well!

Now, on Saturday I got up early and took the long, winding bike bath through the experimental farm and along the Rideau canal to the Parliament Buildings to meet - that's right - no one to cycle to the secret show, which took place at Le Depanneur Sylvestre in Hull. I was disappointed, but not suprised. On this trip, we have met with much disinterest and apathy. People have come out to the shows and said, "You guys are amazing. I would never do that." I have kept thinking, "Well, thank you for coming out to the show and supporting us, but you're not really supporting our cause, are you, since you seem to be missing the point." While the media has shown that they are really only interested in us because of the cycling part of the tour, many audiences across Canada have shown that they are only interested in the music. Often times, it has felt like encouraging people to cycle has been a process of preaching to the converted - people who are already avid cyclists. We seem to be a deeply car-dependant nation. And I could rant for a while about this, but all I can do is re-state "Do as much as you can" and "Catch yourself making excuses". With excuses at my side, I could've pulled out of this tour way back in British Columbia, but I didn't, because they weren't legitimate excuses. "I don't like cycling that much" is not a legitimate excuse for polluting the environment that sustains us. So there, that's it, rant over. I was disappointed that no one joined me on the ride to the Depanneur. They missed a fun little show at Hull's coolest venue. Le Depanneur Sylvestre is a wonderful community co-op with delicious food, coffee, funky clothing and gifts. It is a place that should be supported for the contributions it makes to its community. That's that.

After the show at the Depanneur ended, I took off toward my family's cottage in the Gatineau hills up the green cycling paths that are plenty in the Ottawa-Gatineau area. I was very thankful for them, for they made for much more pleasant riding than the highway. However - I got lost several times because the paths are either poorly or not labeled. I think I cycled an extra dozen kilometres or so because of wrong turns I took. The one I was most bitter about was on the Lac Lemay path where there was a map with a "You are here" arrow pointer on it, and it told me I was somewhere different than I was. I turned right because, according to the map, that would get me on the Gatineau pathway heading north. So, I cycle along for about 4km when the river appears on my left. Well, I swore a bit, realizing I'd just gone 4km south out of my way thanks to a sign that was wrong. I cycled back up to Lac Lemay, and found the actual spot that the sign said I was at (about 200m ahead of the sign) where I was actually supposed to turn right, and finally got myself heading north again. Because of all the wrong-turns, the ride took me a lot longer than planned, and I ran out of water in Chelsea (Tanaga). This made the last stretch through the last few satellite hamlets of Chelsea quite difficult, especially because my hand was numb and pain was shooting up to my elbow again, and I was tired from my first day of serious cycling in a while, etc etc etc. Bitch bitch, wine wine. I made it - that's all that matters. I tore off my shirt, shoes, gloves and helmet when I got to the cottage and immediately dunked myself in the river - oh sweet refreshment! I spent the night drinking tequila with friends Ann, Lara, Allison and my parents, laughing hard and quoting movies familiar to us. It was a good way to spend the night.

The Black Sheep show, though not horribly attended, was also a bit of a disappointment. For a homecoming, I felt very unsupported, and to be honest, it is shows like the three we did this weekend that make me seriously think about quitting music. Folks - if you want someone to keep playing and recording music, show your support for them - show up to the frikkin' shows when they come to your town for the ONE TIME they will be there in the whole year! I am sorry if I am bitter, but there's a chance I'll come off this tour and decide to say "screw it" because, as Timothy Hutton said in Beautiful Girls: "It's just NOT happening". Back at Blue Skies, Clayton Yates was talking about me to someone and said, "This guy had the worst draw of anyone who's played at our venue, but our owner absolutely loved him and said he's welcome back anytime he wants a gig." Welcome to the story of my music career. Maybe I just need a publicist, or a promotional agent?

Well, that's it. It's Monday now, and I am once again re-packing from bike set-up to backpack. I'll likely get a ride to Montreal on Thursday, which is good. We're on the homestretch!

Aug 9 - Ottawa, ON

OK... from Toronto to now:

Finally! A good show in Toronto! Old friends I haven't seen in many years came out of the woodwork to say hello and show support. The house, though not full, was present, warm, and listening. What a treat from the Big Smoke! After all the traffic shenanigans, and walking several city blocks from Spadina (where The Deuce dropped me off) to the Roncesvalles neighborhood in the still sweltering heat, it was great to arrive to a groovy place with atmosphere, tasty food and good beer. I arrived quite early (about 3hrs), so I settled in with my book.

[The book is fabulous, by the way - "Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell". It's about a couple of fictional magicians, and their impact, at the turn of the 19th century. I highly recommend it.]

Slowly but surely, the show got going, as Derek and I were both mingling with steadily arriving friends. I remember little of the set, except that I was in the mood to play every humourous song I had in me, and for the second time on this tour I dropped my pants to play "My Hammerhead Baby". I guess it is getting to the point that recording that song is a necessity for the next album.

At the end of the night, a rather explicit girl decided to make-out with my old tree-planting pal Gabe right beside our table, which was pretty amusing. She literally mounted his lap right there. Ha ha ha! I think Gabe ended up going home with her only to put her to bed. What a gentleman!

I got myself home on the streetcar by 3:00am, and was blessed with a light shower while walking from Queen up to Gerard. I dragged myself in, threw on the new CD I bought from Noah Zacharin, and after having listened to it through (it's great) passed out cold in The Deuce's vacant bed. Turns out I was viciously tired because The Deuce came home and plopped her exhausted paramedic butt down beside me and I had no idea until I woke up around 2pm. We decided to go to Kensington Market to check out a new vegan restuarant for lunch, and it was well worth it. I can't remember what the place is called, but it is closer to College St and has vegan ice cream that flat-out blew the mind of my tastebuds. Black sesame ice cream is one of the best things I have ever tasted!

After our taste explosion, we fought traffic yet again to get out to Oshawa for The Velvet Elvis gig. [Now, The Elvis is where Deuce and I met - she was a waitress and I was playing. So there was nostalgia in this.] Deuce dropped me at the door and took off to walk her lonesome dog and take a dip. I spent most of the lead-up to the show trying to figure out how to get to Consecon the next day, and finally linked up with Jake Willis from down in Guelph who was heading up to Blue Skies the next morning and was kind enough to offer me a ride there, even though it was a little out of his way. The show was good, I think. Derek did his thing for some friends that came up from Hamilton to see him. I'm not sure what I did, though I know I grew a big smile when Billy Blasko and Trish Robb walked in. I hadn't seen Blasko in years, and hadn't seen Trish since last I was in Montreal, I think. I finished my set relatively early for an Elvis gig, and spent the next while visiting with Deuce and Blasko, catching up and reminiscing and talking new too. I ended up going back to Blasko's place with the plan to sleep, but a few beers, great conversation, a few songs, and one recording later, it was 5:45am and I had to get up in an hour to call Jake to see where he was at. So I napped and called him and he was in Milton, so I slept a bit more and called again and he was nearer to Oshawa, so I groggly dragged myself down the stairs and out the door and over to The Elvis' parking lot, ate Tim Horton's sandwich on the asphalt in the morning. Ha ha ha! How many times have I been in this ridiculous situation?

The ride to Consecon with Jake was splendid. That's the only way of putting it. We went up Hwy 2 just above Lake Ontario, which offers some beautiful country views. Rich greens of summer leaves and vast expanses of tall grasses - an occasional brook babbling its way down to the the big water. The towns along this stretch are some of the most aesthetically pleasing towns I've ever seen. Huge oaks and red brick houses - the kind of places I knew when I was a teen trapsing about Perth and parts of Lanark County. Except these places were sunnier somehow. Maybe it was the way the sun was hitting them, but there seemed a lot of joy in them. Maybe it was Jake's positivity rubbing off on me. You see, Jake is a pretty phenomenal man. He's a lot of things, but I think most of all he is a philanthropist and humanitarian. He's a man of faith and a political activist, and he does not seem to blend the two - he merely seems to let them co-exist as independants. On the ride he expressed his concern about a document that might be signed on August 20th that might deepen the political, economical and military ties between the countries of North America. His view was that the United States of America was trying to take over Canada and Mexico "with a pen". I don't know much about what's going on politically. I am out of the loop. But I hope our leaders will not act in such a way that will compromise our integrity as a nation. If we are going to conglomorate with the US and Mexico, it needs to be a mutually benificial action, and there are too many things I do know of that wouldn't be beneficial to share, like privatized health care, for instance, or a deep disparity between rich and poor. Canada was once a more socially-minded nation. The social programs we've had have provided us with an identity. I would hate to see us drown in the deep waters of a North-American capitalism that is, frankly, viciously Machiavellian. There is no arguing it. America's profits are built on blood, sweat, tears and broken dreams - mostly outside their borders, but more and more the tragedy is creeping in.

OK. Enough of the rant. On to Consecon, where the beaches look tropical and old mills are made into drinking holes. I arrived at the Cascades Pub & Grill at 11am, and decided I needed to have a nap after the 1hr sleep absurdness. The girl at the bar drew me a little map, and I only got lost twice before finding the beach two hours later. It was worth it, though. The wind was blowing in off the lake, the sun was high, the waves were breaking, and I found a patch of shade on a patch of sand. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.... I woke up sweaty and hot, as the sun had found me, and jumped in the lake fully clothed before I began walking back to town. It was a glorious walk back as my clothes dried around me and I kept cool as the wind blew them. When I got back, the Cascades Open Stage was jumping, and it reminded me some of Irene's here in Ottawa - people even had songs with the name of the bar and the regulars in them! After the open stage, the place cleared out, and I spent my first set playing an up-close-and-personal set to a couple of tables. By the time Derek got up to play the second set, though, the place had filled up some, and though he fought the noise of the crowd a little bit, he did a pretty darn good job of keeping their attention. Fifteen minutes later, I went up to do my second set, and by that point the bar had erupted into a very noisy situation. Oh - did I mention we were unplugged? Yep. I had to blast my way through every high-tempo, high-volume tune I knew just to keep a scrap of attention. Luckily, it worked, as a lot of people responded very well to me. (There was even a guy who gave me his card who is a Nashville-based promotion outfit - pretty cool, eh?) We were supposed to earn $250 that night, but neither Derek or I felt we'd earned it, so we offered to take a pay cut down to $170, which would cover our expenses, but Chris wanted to pay us $200, so that's what we got. I guess it worked out OK for everyone. It is a hard thing, though, when you've made a deal for a certain amount, and you feel like you haven't earned it. I have trouble with that, anyway....

Later that night I went home with Richard Paxton (the fellow who made Derek's beautiful sounding guitar) and his wife, and they gave me a ride in the morning up to Belleville where I met my dad and headed to Blue Skies. Before I left I got to play some of the guitars he's made, and see his workshop. Guitar-making is an art form that boggles my mind. Sometimes, upon seeing the process, I feel unworthy of playing the things. =)

Ahhhhh... Blue Skies. Home sweet home. Familiar faces and warm embraces - the kindness and love that I need right now. Blue Skies was a whirr of reunions, music, joy. I arrived and felt uplifted. I got my bracelet on and felt liberated. I saw my friends - so many friends. I stayed up all night playing music along Washboard Hank, the good folks from Galitcha, Trevor Mills, Tannis Slimmon, my sister and my dad. I felt sad sad sad as everybody left on Monday and I got an all-too-short jam in with Jerome-Antoine, my greatest playing partner. By Monday night I just wanted to get stoned to erase how melancholy I was feeling, but ultimately it didn't help.